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Politics, Cousin
Northreach: Park District ---- ::Extending south from the Sinistral District to the north, the aptly named southern Park District exists as an attempt to provide some color to a city that lives mostly under the looming shadow of the Aegis. ::As could be inferred from the name, the majority of the land of the District is devoted to a vast green of a size approaching that of the other portions of the city. The grasses are allowed to grow freely, though they remain tamed in places where paths trace through, or where trampled by frequent passing pedestrians. ::Scattered throughout the park are copses of trees and brush, while a stream of water cuts it's way throughout the southwest portion, bridged in a few locations where it intersects with the various paths winding their way about. Ultimately, said stream empties into an almost pristine pond, about which the growth lay thicker. ::Surrounding the grounds, seperated by a circling road, rest personal residences and more traditional merchant stores, embracing the greens while remaining connected through a web of side roads and streets. The palisade that surrounds Northreach circles around the south of the district, House Seamel banners flying proud upon the dark stone wall. ::The Northreach Botanical Gardens grow upon the northern part of the district, seperated by the road encompasing the greens, as well as a low hedge. During the warmer months of the year, the aroma of the gardens provide, depending on tastes, a delight or nightmare to those passing close by. ---- Celeste leads the way to the townhome and nods to the guards that patrol about the gardens. She opens the door to wait for the others enter and entering last. The lumpy cloaked figure is over in some of the shubbery that is the park nearest to the Mikin's townhouse. Hard to see maybe, but he's wheezing like a smith's bellows. Thayndor Zahir passes inside. If he notices his retainer spying from the shrubbery, he makes no sign. Celeste Mikin's Townhouse ---- ::Redwood paneling lines the entryway of the townhouse with a white marble floor with black veining. Just to the side of the door is a small open-top stand that has been carved into the shape of a sunburst, rays scalloping along the top to accept swords, maces and bows. Stairs lead up to an airy landing, which consists of two rooms. ::The main room is draped in emerald curtains along the walls, hiding away the doorway into the kitchen. Beyond the emerald drapes is a simple kitchen with a pot-bellied stove to one wall. Oak-stained cupboards have been paired off to a simple table and burgundy cushioned chairs. In the main room, rich burgundy chairs and a couch of the same hue face a rounded, riverstone hearth with a makeshift spit resting across its flames. The white marbled and black-veined floors have been carried over to the common room's floors. Emerald dyed rugs have been cast about the floors to save toes against frigid nights. ---- Celeste pulls the door closed and pauses to draw the cloak from her shoulders. "So you wish to speak about Master Stonefish," she prompts without much preamble. An inquisitive brow arched towards the Zahir. "Shall I take your cloak?" The latter added almost as an afterthought. "It's not really about Stonefish, Celeste." Thayndor unhitches the garment and offers it to Celeste. "Thank you," he adds quietly, stepping further into the room. "It's about you and I. I thought we were friends," he says, sounding hurt as he turns to face the woman. Celeste takes the cloak, confused. She hangs it up and nods. "We are, Thayndor," she replies and follows after the Count. "I was trying to protect your retainer, but he believes that..." Words seem to fail the woman and she simply shakes her head and waves to the couch. "Please, sit down, Thayndor." "Well, have I ever treated you unfairly?" Thayndor asks, walking to the chair and resting his hand on the back. "No," she replies. Clearly off-kilter now and lowering to the edge of the couch. "Will you allow me to explain?" She asks in a guarded whisper. "I would like that," Thayndor says, putting a hand to his chest. "I don't understand why you would behave so with me," he adds, brows lifted and tone reflecting betrayed gravitas. Celeste takes a deep breath and leans back to the seat. "Your man came into the Wench, and looked to be suffering from more ills. When I asked him to sit, he retreated. Soon he was backing against the wall... and so I," she swallows and looks down to her hands. "I tried to heal him with the Light. I fear he thought I may have been trying to assault him and when I tried to speak to him, he ran off as though the Shadow itself were after him." She runs her tongue over her lips, dry from the retelling. "Later, the gargoyles came and I rode out with Lord Gefrey and Lord Rayk to see if we could assess where they were headed." Her gaze rises to seek out the Zahir's. "I had no intention of hurting him, Thayndor. Or taking anything from him. Only to see what they may be after and protect him from being carried off. He... he panicked again." "Celeste," Thayndor replies, his voice falling, "I am deeply hurt. I thought we could trust one another. But you have clearly expressed a belief that I cannot tend my own house, nor my own men, nor that I am capable of keeping people about me who can tend to themselves." He holds his hands out, palms up. "Do I seem to you so hapless? Really, do I?" "No, you don't," Celeste says and rises. She steps closer and reaches for one of the raised hands to clasp between hers. "Thayndor, I was only trying to protect him from an evil that nearly ended my own life. He had no armor to stay their hand, and I've every intention of recompensing him. My intention was neither to betray or insult you." "I can see now that it wasn't," Thayndor says, allowing Celeste to take one of his hands and resting his own atop hers with relief. "But, inadvertently, you've done both of those things. By publicly approaching one of my men in this way, you've made it seem as if my organization lacks the ability to support him ourselves -- which is a backhanded insult in itself." He smiles, sadly, and explains patiently. "I know you're just trying to do the right thing, but such unsolicited displays of 'protection' do nothing but emasculate. It's ... politics, cousin. I know you've spent your life outside of this twisted and ugly world, but it is the one in which we Nobles live. I apologize for being so accusatory earlier -- at first I thought you knew exactly what you were doing, and were doing it on purpose to pay me back for some unknown slight." Celeste offers his hand a gentle squeeze. "Never, Thayndor," she states, soft and resolute. "They would have surely carried him off. " A faint smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "You are one of the few who seems to understand, even if only to remind me not to behave as such. May I ask what he told you?" "The story exactly as you gave it to me," Thayndor replies, disengaging himself and stepping away. "In his own dialect, of course. But I see that you don't trust me after all." "Wha..." Celeste cries and involuntarily steps back. "How can you say that, Thayndor? My words were not a critique, but a compliment." "You think I've let Stonefish wander off alone and you think he is incapable of avoiding abduction by gargoyles if attacked alone," Thayndor replies. "Clearly you don't think I'm a capable leader, either." "Thayndor, he was hiding in a ditch with three circling over head," replies Celeste and regains that simple step. Her hands lowering to rest to her hips. "You are an exceptional leader, my lord. You do not need me to remind. Master Stonefish was easy prey and everything happened too fast for me to realize the slight more so than trying to protect a citizen of Fastheld. Please understand that I was not thinking more than reacting." "And when you laid hands on him in the tavern?" Thayndor asks. "I know you were trying to help -- I appreciate it. If given the chance to accept your offer of assistance, I would have taken it. But I wasn't, and therein lies the dilemma I now face." Celeste worries her lower lip. "Thayndor, I think it is more *what* I am that scares him," she murmurs sheepishly. "His reaction when I healed him the first time was... less than desirable. But he needs to see a healer. If you wish, I could see that she comes to you to see him and remove any connection of myself." "Stonefish was hiding in a ditch, and until you arrived to draw attention to him, he had not been found. My trust in his ability to handle himself alone was well-placed, and your lack of trust in me was ill-placed -- and was potentially dangerous to my retainer, should you have failed in your engagement of the gargoyles. Now you tell me that this self-same retainer cannot judge for himself when he needs to see a healer, and furthermore, that I can't spot that need instead? You really don't have any faith at all in my ability to mind my own affairs, and you apparently see a need to instruct me in my own business," Thayndor replies, that tone of hurt returning as he takes a step back. "Why didn't you just tell me what you thought of me right out, if you lack the typical Noble's bent for devious subterfuge, rather than continuing this ruse of innocence?" Celeste seems to consider taking a step and stays her foot short of completion. "Thayndor, I believe your man may not be in his right mind at the moment. That it is not a reflection on you but he was addled when I tried to help him. I'm not telling you how to run your organization or offering anything more than concern. Were it Meian injured, I would wish you to tell me if I were not there to see to such." She steps away and lowers to the edge of the chair. "It was not my words that drew him from hiding," she offers in a low conciliatory tone. "In truth, I wondered for a time if they may have been coming for me." "Then I am glad that others were there to help you," Thayndor says. "But you have put me in a precarious position, politically, and I hope that you will do me a kindness so that I may be strong enough to help you in the future should you seek my help." Celeste leans back to meet his gaze. "What kindness would you ask, Thayndor?" "Don't do me any favors," Thayndor replies. "It weakens my position, politically. Don't get me wrong -- I want, and sometimes do need, your help. But in order for me to get it, and not be even weaker for it, I must ask first. So please do not volunteer, or you will do me more harm than good. That includes tending to my retainers as if they were your own; you must show people that you trust my ability to select retainers and to care for them, or if you don't, that at least you respect me enough not to take matters into your own hands, and respect my estate and my affairs as my own. Can you do that for me?" She nods, combing a hand through her hair. "Yes, Thayndor. But will you offer one small favor for me," she counters and tries to hold his gaze. "The ingress. If he's still to his person, can you either hide it away or speak with Blackfox? The gargoyles seek it and for that... I fear for you, my friend." "You really -don't- trust me," Thayndor replies, his brow falling. "Celeste Mikin, I have already tended to that matter. You must think me a complete fool." "Actually... I don't," she murmurs and leans back. "As it only happened the other day, I had not realized whether you had been able to ... see to the matter." "Then show it, Celeste," Thayndor says. "Let me tend my own house. You hurt me by doing otherwise. I know it is hard to understand, but you must. Otherwise ..." he sighs and appears to be of heavy heart. "Otherwise I am not sure we can be friends. At least not in public." "I won't step on your toes, Thayndor," Celeste replies. "But if you've the Ingress. There are people who need it. And that is one friend telling another." She rises to her feet and steps towards the curtain that partitions off the kitchen. "I will only attend to those of your house, should you ask. Agreed?" Thayndor Zahir's jaw works at Celeste's final foray into his affairs. But, at her second sentence, he replies. "Agreed." The tone is warm. "I hope I am able, in time, to help you understand the game you are being forced to play. But tonight I'm afraid I must depart again and do just as I said I do - attend to the affairs of my Keep." "Please," Celeste says with a candid flash of vulnerability. "Do come and visit when you wish, my lord. Either here or Night's Edge, my door is always open." She flicks the curtain closed, the trip stalled by his words. "Light keep and protect you, and your men." "And you and yours," Thayndor replies, bowing at the waist. "Good night, Celeste" he adds, and turns for the door. Return to Season 6 (2007) Category:Logs